


Velvet Bites (From The Black Cat Who Chases His Embrace)

by Hannibalsimago



Category: Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: M/M, One Royale Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 14:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17830082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibalsimago/pseuds/Hannibalsimago
Summary: He had always played the odds, hedged his bets and come out on top against the house. He wasn’t the type of man to form attachments. Business arrangements were always manipulated to ensure an outcome which maximized his advantage, his percentage. It had always been about the numbers.Until Dr. Flynn.Le Chiffre is not a man you say 'No' to. Not if you want to keep all your body parts functioning and in one piece.Dr. John Flynn has some decisions to make when he receives a dinner invitation.This is for @Krey9J who has been incredibly patient with me while waiting for this story.  I hope that the wait was worthwhile. Thank you for the incredible title to this piece. You are such an inspiration.





	Velvet Bites (From The Black Cat Who Chases His Embrace)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Krey9J](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krey9J/gifts).



He had always played the odds, hedged his bets and come out on top against the house. He wasn’t the type of man to form attachments. Business arrangements were always manipulated to ensure an outcome which maximized his advantage, his percentage. It had always been about the numbers.

 

_Until Dr. Flynn._

 

It was supposed to be a simple business arrangement. He wasn’t expecting it. It wasn’t supposed to happen. It hadn’t happened _ever_ . He viewed it as one more variable for him to manipulate, to factor into his equations. Instead, he got blindsided by his reaction to the captivating psychiatrist. _‘Like a teenager for christ sake.’_

 

He denied any attraction, tried to keep it strictly professional. The futility of it all hit him when he spent an entire nine-hour business fight to the Congo thinking about Flynn. Luckily, he got his head in the game when the wheels touched down on the ground.

 

After that, Le Chiffre accepted that the illustrious Dr. Flynn was something special. As much as he relished the banter, the brilliant flashes of the man’s intelligence and the intimate setting of the therapy office, he gave it up for the greater prize, the long game. Le Chiffre remembered the hurt look on Flynn’s face when he told him he was leaving therapy due to ‘unavoidable time management conflicts.’ It took everything to remain neutral, appear unaffected for Flynn’s sake during the short face-to-face encounter.

 

For months now, he had been wanting to see more of that fascinating man outside of his stated office hours. An evening spent enjoying an exquisite bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon- which paled in comparison to the company- the tease of a bottle of vintage champagne in celebration of the man's birthday was not nearly enough. Le Chiffre desired more.

 

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, recalling the unclaimed dinner invitation he had verbally extended to the doctor. Smiling over steepled fingers, Le Chiffre shifted in his chair, pulled open the top right drawer and retrieved a cotton half sheet and matching envelope.  Extracting his best fountain pen, he licked his lips as he composed a formal invitation.

 

 

 

 

 

Blotting the paper, he slipped it into the envelope and sealed it. He buzzed for Leo, a recent addition to his crew, then stood and walked to the window. Watching the reflection of the room in the glass, he saw Leo come to the doorway. Le Chiffre held up the envelope between the index and middle fingers of his left hand. The command was silent, implicit. He watched his subordinate cross the room and reach for the envelope.

 

Before Leo’s fingers could touch it, Le Chiffre pulled it away and said quietly, “You will wait for an answer in the affirmative and return at once. If the recipient is not home, you will wait until he is.” Stepping to the right, he turned to fix his implacable gaze upon Leo. Still withholding the letter, he waited.

 

“Of course, Mr. Le Chiffre,” stammered Leo. “Clear as crystal.”

 

“Do not equate your duty with a fragile objet d'art. An unfortunate choice of metaphor and an alarming precedent. Are you breakable, Leo?” tsked Le Chiffre.

 

Leo blanched, gulped and shook his head ‘no’.

 

“That won’t do, Leo. Are you sure this isn’t beyond your capabilities?”

 

Le Chiffre watched as the man wiped his forehead with the back of his left hand. Turning his hand over, Leo rubbed it against his mouth and lower jaw before attempting to reach for the letter again.

 

“No sir, Mr. Le Chiffre. Sorry sir,” said Leo quickly.

 

Le Chiffre pulled the letter back further out of reach, his good eye blazing, his milky blue one inscrutable.

 

“Your _other_ hand please,” Le Chiffre hissed.

 

Leo looked as though he might faint, wiping his left hand on his jeans, he extended his right hand. It shook like a storm-battered tree. Rotating his right hand for examination, he exhaled when Le Chiffre handed him the envelope. Spinning on his heel, he exited the room as quickly as possible.  

 

_______________________________

 

Later that evening, John Flynn had just finished pouring himself a lovely Armagnac and was considering which book to pull off of his bookshelf for an evening read when he heard the sound of a car on his street. _‘Quite late for traffic of any kind,’_ he thought, putting down his drink and walking to the window. A nondescript sedan rolled into an empty parking space in front of his office. A man in his thirties exited the car and climbed the steps to Flynn’s brownstone.

 

John sighed as the intercom buzzed. He hadn’t recognized the man and there were no emergency texts.

 

“Hello?” as he answered the intercom.

 

“Dr. John Flynn?” came the tinny voice through the speaker.

 

“Yes. Who is this and why are you here at this hour of the evening? Is this able to wait until tomorrow? Can’t you call my service and make an appointment like everyone else?” He couldn’t help but sound a bit peeved. He had so little free time lately and this was the last thing he wanted to do.

 

“I’ve been given a letter to hand deliver to you, with strict instructions to wait for a reply. My name is Leo, but that’s not important.”

 

“Is this a legal summons, Leo? Or a medical emergency?”

 

“Neither. Please, I’m begging you. Just take the letter,” Leo’s voice shook with barely suppressed fear.

 

“I’m coming down,” sighed John. _‘Sooner this is over with, the sooner I can get back to my book,’_

 

Switching on the staircase lights, he walked to the ground floor, and unlocked the deadbolt, keeping the door on the security chain.  A nondescript face peered through the gap. The man handed over an expensive looking letter. Flynn closed the door for a moment and turned the letter over, immediately recognizing the handwriting. Taking the security chain off the door, he ushered the young man inside.

 

“Please wait here,” requested Dr. Flynn as he opened a pocket door and stepped into the office on the main floor.

 

Crossing to his desk, he retrieved his letter opener. Slitting open the envelope, he unfolded the note. He unconsciously waved the opened envelope, catching the faint smell of sandalwood and Bergamot. He smiled as he read the note.

 

Leaving the note and envelope on the desk, he walked back into the foyer, surprised to find Leo extending his hand.

 

“I accept,” he said.

 

“Thank you for seeing me so late, Dr. Flynn. It’s most appreciated. Good night,” said Leo shaking his hand inordinately grateful to have delivered it.

 

“You’re welcome Leo. Good night.” Dr. Flynn partially closed the door, fastening the security chain as he watched the sedan drive away. Locking the deadbolt and setting the alarm, Flynn walked back into the office where he slid the note back into the envelope and slipped it into his breast pocket, unconsciously humming a snatch of Vivaldi’s _The Four Seasons_ as he climbed the stairs smiling to himself.

 

________________________________________

 

Two weeks later, John stood in his bedroom looking at the imposing box on his bed. He had decided on a haute couture creation by Zuhair Murad, an extravagance he was sure his host would appreciate. With shaking hands, he lifted the lid off the box and set it aside. He carefully removed the masses of tissue paper until he saw the navy blue sequins of the embellished appliques thistles on the sheer top.

 

Even before he had accepted Jean’s invitation, he thought about his most interesting patient. First, because of the nature of the complaint, recurrent images of a feral one-eyed Viking, then because of the man himself. Consummate businessman, coolly intelligent, inscrutable and devastatingly handsome, his damaged visage only serving to add to his mystery and allure.

 

 _‘Allure. Such a simple word for a welter of emotions,’_ thought Flynn. Their recent series of social  interactions more resembled a tango. As with the dance, a heated undercurrent permeated every glance or social conversation, no matter how seemingly casual.

 

Lately, he found that the increasingly charged atmosphere between them drifted more and more into Flynn’s personal space, into his dreams. Over the past month, a recurring motif emerged. Flynn found himself in a lush tropical jungle. Nothing was visible except for the verdant growth. Bird song and insect noises filled the air. In the dreams, he knew he was looking for something but precisely what he was searching for was nebulous. He kept searching through the jungle with a increasing unease. He felt as if he was being stalked by a big cat.

 

He pushed through the undergrowth with urgency. Leaves hit him in his face; he tripped over tree roots. A sense of menace, of dread seemed to drift on the wind. He heard the growl of the unseen cat up in the canopy. He caught sight of a maimed eye, milky blue like Le Chiffre’s. He wiped sweat out of his eye and it was gone again.

 

Flynn began to run, knowing that he was being chased, herded somewhere. He panted, hating the humid air, feeling he was suffocating. Occasionally he heard the crash of something behind him or felt a hot exhale of breath between his shoulder blades. He shuddered, whether in pleasure or fear; it was all immaterial.

 

Last night’s dream ended with him falling to his knees, his arm outstretched, gasping for breath. A growled command from Le Chiffre, “Stay down, John,” John awoke covered with sweat and shivering with Jean’s name on his lips.

 

Shaking the remains of the dream away, he continued to dress. Slipping his fingers under the high collar, he held the elaborate dickey up to his chest. The two columns of sequined, beaded and embroidered thistles glinted as they caught the light. The backless dickey ensured that if the evening turned intimate, he would have a more permanent reminder of the encounter via Jean’s nails or teeth. He shivered thinking about it, hands shaking as he set it down.

 

Uncovering more tissue, he pulled the overlong white jacket from the box, his hands trailing across more of the beaded thistles which ran down both sleeves. The jacket had two large oversized navy lapels and two more columns of the plant motifs running down each side on the front. It was a stunning ensemble. He was sure he would make an impressive entrance and was confident that Jean would be enthralled. It was only fair, since he often felt overshadowed by the elegance of the man who had initially come to him as a client, becoming  something more over the months they got to know each other.

 

He had enough time to shower and dress before he would be called for,picked up and driven by one of Jean’s associates. “No time to waste _,”_ he reminded himself. He knew Jean prided himself on being on time and appreciated the trait in others.

 

After his shower, he towelled off trying to decide what to wear underneath. It shouldn’t be this hard. Hell, he shouldn’t be this hard. He’d forgone all intimate touches since he received Jean’s note. The anticipation had been delicious. He crossed to his dresser and pulled open a drawer, mulling over his options. ‘ _Let’s go with surprise,’_  he smiled as his fingers found the white lace thong. _‘Just one more thing. Ah, There it is.’_ He found the last perfect touch for his outfit and set about getting ready.

 

___________________________________

 

Making his way down to the entryway, he set the alarm, locking the door and made his way to the curb. The limousine driver exited the car and came around to open the car door.

 

“Good evening Dr. Flynn. Stunning choice. Monsieur Le Chiffre will be pleased if you don’t mind me saying,” complimented the driver.  “Please forgive my presumptuousness. My name is Kratt and I’ll be your driver.”

 

“Thank you. Don’t worry. You didn’t say anything you shouldn’t,” said John.

 

Kratt flushed in embarrassment. “Thank you, Doctor. There’s water in the middle console along with glasses. The seat extends if you would like to put your feet up. It’ll be a long ride. Shall I fix that now for you?”

 

“Yes, if you’d be so kind please Kratt,” said John moving his legs to the side. This allowed Kratt to push a few hidden controls in the middle console which raised and extended the seat into something more resembling the type of seat one might find in business class. He locked it into position and waited while Dr. Flynn stretched his legs out and buckled his seat belt.

 

Once he was settled, Kratt asked, “If you need me to adjust the temperature controls, you only need ask. Will we be making any detours along the way? Do you have everything you need?”  

 

“I’ll be fine. Thank you,” replied John.

 

Kratt made one last check before closing the door and circling around to the driver’s seat. He took his place, switched the car on, checked the mirrors and pulled into traffic.

 

John was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable the ride was. He felt like he was floating and found himself dozing as the car approached the freeway. His thoughts circled, centering around the enigmatic Jean Duran. He was as fascinating as he was dangerous. However, as John was not included in his group of business associates, it was less likely that he had anything to fear in that sense.

 

However, he _had_ been wondering just how much his host liked to be in control in his personal relationships. John was always struck by Jean’s predatory nature. It didn’t put him off. Quite the contrary, he found it intriguing. Much like the recurring visions of the silent, scarred Viking which brought him to his practice in the first place, Jean was tantalizing. It was going to be an exceptional evening. He hadn’t felt like this since his wife Vera. It had been too long. Enough of dalliances. He was tired of the triviality, of the shallowness. There was nothing shallow about Jean.

 

The scenery changed from city to countryside. He must have dozed as the car crossed over the bridge. Judging from the number of trees along the road and the change in terrain, he had been out of it for some time. He pressed the button for the speaker.

 

“Excuse me, Kratt. Where are we?”

 

“We just passed the exit for Poughkeepsie. We will be arriving at Stone Ridge in a half an hour.”

 

“But that’s…” John mumbled figuring out the distances in his head and rubbing his forehead in consternation. He realized how thirsty he was and opened the middle console to find a refrigerated compartment. Next to the cooler were two cut crystal tumblers. _‘I bet it’s lead crystal. None of this should surprise me,’_

 

The limo turned onto Main Street and then onto a smaller road. He caught the sign, Legget Road. No visible houses, just a narrow, paved road flanked with trees. The limo turned, following the road. At the end were two stone pillars with the name of the house “Chiddingstone” on a placard set in one of them. A filigree metal gate blocked the entrance. Kratt punched in a numerical code on a external keypad and the gate opened silently, the security eye winking in the darkness as the car passed by.  

 

Once through the gate, the road meandered through meadows and forest, curving slightly until he saw a long dry-stone wall and beyond that a large wooden structure. It rose two stories and even had an attached four-car garage. Lights blazed into the night through huge windows in what John assumed was the living room.  The limo pulled up in the curved driveway and Kratt exited after shutting the motor off. He came around and opened the door helping the doctor to exit.

 

“I have to put the car away, Dr. Flynn. Just walk up to the entrance,” he said gesturing towards a large wooden door. John was still holding the empty glass dazedly as he straightened up, stretching after the long journey.

 

“Here, let me take that please. He’s waiting for you.”

 

John shivered, paying little mind whether it was from a night breeze or something else entirely. Following the stone path to a flagstone patio, he walked up the steps to the enormous wooden door. Before he could raise his hand to knock, the door opened. Jean stood framed in the doorway.

 

“John! I hope the trip wasn’t too tiring?” Jean extended his hand. “Welcome to my home, make yourself comfortable,” said Jean stepping back and allowing John to enter the two story foyer crowned with a huge glass and wrought iron chandelier. The floor was slate and massive wooden support beams rose to a second story mezzanine. The supports were rough and raw, as if trees were growing through the house only stripped of their outer bark. It was a striking design, boldly masculine. It suited the owner completely.

 

Jean closed the front door and put a hand on John’s shoulder, leaning in slightly.

 

“I can offer you an aperitif. Dinner will be ready in roughly a quarter of an hour.”

 

“We’re having wine with dinner?” asked John.

 

“Yes, of course. I can’t hold a candle to your cellar though,” replied Jean.  

 

“I’m sure whatever you’ve chosen will be exceptional. I’ll pass on the aperitif if you don’t mind.”

 

Jean smiled and led him into the living room. “Please, relax. I just need to check on dinner and I’ll return.”

 

He turned down the lights while John looked out the window entranced by the view. He startled with a squeak when he suddenly felt Jean’s hand on his shoulder and felt him close.“Dinner is ready,” murmured Jean in his ear. His breath on John’s neck made him flinch slightly and he shivered again. John knew that startling him was intentional. ‘ _It’s the closest he’s been since I’ve known him. It’s almost like he’s staking a claim.’_

 

He turned and looked at Jean, fully noticing what he was wearing for the first time. He wore a single-breasted black velvet jacket with grosgrain lapels, a matching waistcoat, a black cotton dress shirt and black bow tie. The only spot of contrast was a pair of silver cufflinks.

 

_‘He looks exactly like a black panther. Why do I have this overwhelming desire to pet him? I don’t even care if he bites.’_

 

John smiled at the thought and managed to coordinate his muscles and train of thought to produce an audible utterance.

 

“Tom Ford?” He gestured at Jean’s suit.

 

Jean smiled and replied smoothly, “No, it’s a Brioni. But it pales in comparison to your splendor. You are stunning. I would offer you my arm but fear it would be rebuffed.”

 

John laughed, allowing himself to be led to the dining room where two place settings were set and the starter was plated and waiting. He couldn’t be sure, but thought Jean was eyeing his backside, noticing the way his pants flared and swung around his legs as he moved. He smiled, glancing up and saw Jean’s hazel eye twinkle as he took his place at the table.

 

“Would you like a glass of wine now, or with the main course?” asked Jean.

 

“The main course will be fine,” replied John.  Spearing a spinach leaf he asked, “Did you cook?”

 

Jean chuckled “That is not my forte. When I’m in residence I have a housekeeper.”

 

“When I received your invitation, I never imagined you having a house like this.”

 

“I, like anyone else, sometimes require the solitude of nature.”

 

“I didn’t mean to imply anything,” said John. “It just adds to your allure.”

 

Jean gave John a heated look, setting his fork down and allowing the himself the pleasure to watch the physician squirm under his scrutiny. It made him imagine other pleasurable pursuits.

 

“You played your cards quite close to your vest, John. I had no idea I was anything but being ignored.”

 

John flushed, wishing he’d accepted the offer of wine. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. The rebuke stung but he couldn’t be upset. He kept meaning to call but his obligations always interfered. He glanced at Jean and felt again as if he was being played with by a large cat, claws sheathed but still deadly.

 

“Cat got your tongue?”

 

“Not all at, Jean. No one could ignore you. Those that do, do it at their peril. I’m sorry I made you wait for so long for the fulfilment of our engagement, but not sorry at the way it’s happened.”

 

John’s hands clutched at empty air

 

“Wishing you took me up on that offer of a glass of wine, John?”

 

“Please.”

 

“No problem. Have you finished?” Jean stood and stepped closer to remove the salad plate. At John’s nod, he placed a hand on his shoulder not failing to notice how John leaned into his touch. Jean elegantly stroked John’s pulse point and watched his eyelids flutter close. He thought he heard a soft sound escape but wasn’t sure. He nearly purred with pride before stepping back to give John space and walked toward the kitchen.

 

Jean nodded to Consuela his housekeeper as he entered the kitchen. “Consuela, ¿Está lista la cena?” He placed the dishes on the granite countertop next to the sink. She was giving dinner the final touches.

 

“Sí señor. Listo.”

 

“Si pudiera, por favor, traer los platos, me ocuparé del vino y las copas yo mismo.” requested Jean as he opened the bottle of white wine. He sniffed the cork and poured a tiny amount of wine in a small glass, tasting it. Satisfied, he placed the bottle in the wine bucket and picked up the glasses.

John could hear the clink of dishes and the murmur of voices in the kitchen. He was expecting to see Jean enter with the next course, but a Spanish woman in her mid-thirties appeared with two dinner plates in her hands. Jean followed after her with a wine bucket and a pair of glasses.

 

Jean spoke as he set the ice bucket down along with the glasses, proceeding to pour for the two of them.  

 

“Dr. Flynn, this is my incomparable housekeeper, Consuela. She will take as good care of you as she does me. If there is something you wish or need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

 

He looked at Consuela. “Este es mi invitado el Dr. Flynn. Confío que le harás sentir como en casa.”

 

She nodded, shy in front of company and walked to his seat placing the remaining plate down on the table.

 

John looked at her and smiled trying to put her at ease “Lo intentaré, pero mi español está un poco-” he waved his hand around trying to think of the foreign word and giving up switched to English “-rusty. Forgive me. My Spanish is horrible.”

 

She smiled at him shyly and replied “I know pequeño English. And Señor is here to help?”

 

Jean looked at her and nodded. As she walked back to the kitchen he said “Gracias,Consuela.  
Kratt te llevará a casa. Deja los platos para mañana. Ten una buena tarde.”

“Buenas noches, Señor, Dr.Flynn,” said Consuela.

 

“Good night Consuela. Thank you,” replied John.

 

Jean handed him a glass of white wine, poured himself one and sat down. “Please don’t stand on ceremony, John. It’s no good if it’s cold,” said Jean as he sipped from his glass.

 

John cut a small piece of scallop, eating it with gusto and chasing it with a sip of wine. “It’s a lovely pairing Jean. The sear on the fish and the acid of the wine are very complimentary. It’s simply perfect. I love the brown butter and the prosciutto is a lovely touch.”

 

Jean smiled broadly as he cut into his fish and took a bite. “I’m very pleased dinner is to your liking. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about the wine choice.”

 

John chuckled and said “I can’t believe that you haven’t done this a hundred times before.”

He forked an asparagus spear with the prosciutto and took a bite, barely suppressing an appreciative moan.

 

“You are the first person I’ve invited here,” replied Jean quietly.

 

John put his cutlery down and picked up his wine glass. “I had no idea I was so honored. Will you allow me a toast?”

 

Jean inclined his head and looked expectantly across the table.

 

“To first times with good friends.”

 

John noted his dinner companion’s pleased response to the toast, the way his lip curled in a smile, it’s warmth reflected in a hazel eye. They sipped their wine in silence. Jean stood and refilled their glasses.

 

“May I ask you some questions about the property Jean?”

 

“If I can answer them, I will,” he said, before spearing a piece of asparagus.

 

“How large is the property? How did you acquire it? ”

 

“Fifty-four acres. I won it in a card game.”

 

John laughed, a genuine bellyful, one that he struggled to control. He wiped his tears away and struggled to subdue his exuberance. Jean looked as pleased as a cat with a bowl of cream. He stood up and poured the rest of the bottle into John’s glass.

 

“Is there anything else you wish to ask?”

 

“I think anything else can wait.”

 

“I believe there are a few scallops left? Would you care for some more John?”  
  
“No, save them for Kratt when he returns.”

“May I?” said Jean gesturing towards the dinner plate.

 

“Let me.”

 

“Nonsense. You are my guest. Will you want coffee with dessert?”

 

“No. Just you.”

 

Jean was tempted to reach out to stroke John’s face but resisted. He carried both plates into the kitchen, scraping them and leaving them by the sink for a moment. He pulled out his cell phone to text Kratt a message about the leftovers and wished him a good evening. Shutting off his phone, Jean turned his attention to the dessert. He found a tray and placed the dessert dishes on it, along with the appropriate silverware and a small dish of cream for John.

 

When he returned to the dining room, John had just finished his wine. “We can take our dessert in another room if you wish.”

 

“I would like that very much.”

 

“Let me turn down the fireplace then,” he said banking the embers and raising the fireplace screen making sure it was secure. John made a motion to carry the glasses into the kitchen but Jean stopped him. “The dessert won’t keep.”

 

John nodded and followed him into the living room. Setting the tray on the coffee table in front of the plush sofa, John took a seat and sank into the cushions. A small noise escaped him and he chuckled as he was handed a footed glass custard dish and a dessert spoon. He scooped up a raspberry along with some of the clear jelly and sucked it off the spoon. He gave a very indulgent sigh and said “Champagne jelly?”

 

“Actually no. It’s a very nice non-oaked Chardonnay,” replied Jean. He enjoyed this much more relaxed houseguest. _‘Although it could be half the bottle of wine which helped with that,’_ he smiled at the thought. “Please help yourself to the cream.”

 

“Yes I will,” said John as he fought to extricate himself from the depths of the couch.

 

“Let me help you,” cautioned Jean as he took the dessert dish and spoon away from John. He poured all of the cream into the dish and handed it back along with the spoon.

 

“I think I’m a little tipsy.”

 

“I think you are too,” whispered Jean as his finger brushed an errant curl out of John’s face.

John hummed as he ate, the picture of contentment. Jean leaned forward, plucked the dessert glass from the tray along with his spoon and settled back to enjoy his dessert.

 

“So tell me more about the land. What made you decide to keep it?”

 

“It borders fourteen thousand acres of protected conservation lands in addition to twenty five hundred acres of pristine forest. I’ve got five hundred feet of lake frontage and there is access to two thousand acres of fresh water reservoirs along with trout streams. You haven’t seen it’s true beauty. Once you see it you won’t need to ask.”

 

John gasped when he heard the figures.  “Can you show me tomorrow? Do you have horses?” His excitement was palpable.

 

Jean laughed and set the dishes back on the tray. “I am not here often enough to keep them. But there is a stable nearby. I take it you ride then John?”

 

John leaned over and murmured in a sultry growl “Many things.”

 

Jean raised one eyebrow and gave him a wicked smile in return. “I was going to suggest a tour of the house.”

 

“Or we could cuddle,” purred John.

 

Jean bit back a laugh and crawled over the cushions to box John into the corner of the sofa. “As alluring as that sounds, it will not happen in this room. Kratt will be walking through the first floor to check security and have his dinner. We will be elsewhere.”

 

“Not before this.” The kiss that followed was brutal, full of teeth-clacking passion with a wicked slide of tongues leaving both men breathless at its end and ablaze with longing.

 

“Show me the house,” commanded John.

 

He was pulled to his feet and was given a look of naked hunger along with a snarled flash of fangs. _‘I need to see more of that,’_ was the only conscious thought he had. Too dazed with lust to register anything beyond Jean’s hand in his until he heard a growled order of “Up!” He was instantly half-hard at the command and moaned. He blinked, a touch disoriented with reality flooding back to find himself standing at a bottom of a staircase.

 

“John, do I need to carry you?” asked a concerned Le Chiffre.

 

He bit his bottom lip and quipped, “Maybe later.” When Jean gave him no playful response to his jibe, he said, “Sorry I was in my own head.”

 

“I would have you here with me. Are you certain you’re well?”

 

John nodded ‘yes’ and pulled Jean into a rough embrace. He took the opportunity to slot his leg between Jean’s legs and watched a shiver run through his frame.

 

“Upstairs,” growled Jean.

 

“Admit it. You just want to watch my ass.”

 

It was a breathless race to the top of the stairs after that comment. Then an abbreviated sprint down the hallway before John was cornered and pressed up against a wall by a predatory Le Chiffre.

 

“You should never run in front of a hunter,” murmured Jean as he peeled John’s jacket back to expose his collarbone. He bent down to suck a bruise which bloomed as dark as the thistles on John’s outfit.

 

“I’m not prey,” gasped John as he manhandled the taller man so he could tease him around his jaw with his teeth.    

 

Jean pulled away “No, you’re not. But you will be mine.”

 

“I could say the same Jean.”

 

Fevered minutes later, both of them were in the master bathroom. Le Chiffre took off his jacket, waistcoat and dress slacks leaving him in his silk boxers and dress shirt. John was completely clothed.

 

“Will you let me undress you? I will be careful of your finery.”

 

John hummed an agreement as he finished brushing his teeth, bending down over the sink to spit. He rinsed his mouth and his gaze flicked upward; he saw Jean looking at him in the mirror. Stepping aside to let the other use the sink, he walked over to the jacuzzi tub and looked out the window to view the moonlight on the water. He glanced at the shower enclosure noting it was big enough for two when he caught a movement in his peripheral vision. He looked back at the man bent over the sink, intent on his evening routine and had a wicked thought.

 

As Jean straightened up to grab a towel off the rack, he saw John hovering close. Wiping his face, he turned to the other man and was pressed back against the sink as John leaned in for a kiss. Heads tilted, the panting breath they shared heightened the erotic atmosphere. Needy noises and soft wet sounds mixed with harsh grunts, filling the empty room. John watched himself in the mirror. He saw himself gripping the back of Jean’s neck as he tilted his head back to expose his throat to lascivious kisses. He closed his eyes when Jean leaned in to press his lips to John’s wildly bobbing Adam's apple. In response, John licked and sucked at his pulse point, nipping and worrying the skin. Jean’s body was trapped between the vanity and the man in front of him and it was sheer torture.

John backed away releasing Jean, grabbed a towel and walked into the master bedroom. He tossed the towel on the bed and stood looking out the wall of windows. He saw an inground pool off to the side and wondered if they will make use of it this weekend. _‘It would be nice to see Jean in swimming trunks,’_ he thought. At that moment, a shiver ran through him as Jean caressed him between his shoulder blades.

 

He stepped in front of him, fingers trailing across his collarbone and down his arm. Jean carefully removed his jacket inwardly marveling at its weight. He carried it over to the settee in the corner and laid it carefully down. Turning back to John, his fingers skimmed over the exposed skin of his arms. He stepped behind John and let out a gasp.“I had no idea you were so...exposed,” sighed Jean as his finger traced a line up his spine. He watched the doctor shudder at the caress. He bent down and licked the knobs of John’s spine following the path of his fingers and listened to quivering moan. Jean’s nimble fingers undoing the fastening at his neck and hips. A quick movement later, Jean stood in front of the doctor again, carefully removing his sheer applique top.   

 

As before, the top’s laid with the jacket and while Jean’s back was turned, John stripped down to his lace thong, walked over and placed the pants with the rest of his clothes. He stepped behind Jean and ground tantalizingly against him. Jean’s fingers clutched behind him, grasping at John’s hips. When he felt the fabric, he growled, “Oh you tease.”

 

John laughed, stepping away and whispering, “if I get to the bed first, my choice.” Jean made no real move of pursuit, eager to see where this would lead. He sauntered to the foot of the bed and stripped off the rest of his clothes. His cock was hard and flushed as he crawled onto the bed reaching for John and pulling him close. He looked at the man in his arms, an unspoken question in his eye and suckled at his bottom lip while his fingers dipped lower.

 

“I want to ride you. That’s my choice,” stammered John as he was caressed and teased.

 

“You’ve been looking at me in a most particular way all night. Is it just desire or something else?”

 

“You remind me of a very large dangerous predator, all sleek and black. A panther.”

 

“I see,” chuckled Jean. “There are worse things to be compared to. And what would you do with this cat when you caught him...or when he caught you?”

 

“Of course even domesticated cats aren’t tamed. They tolerate. Perhaps love after a fashion. But everything starts with petting. I want to pet you.”

 

“Will you let me bite you? Mark you?”

 

“Yes, Jean”

 

Something wild broke in Jean at that and he pulled John on top of him, suddenly frantic. Needing more, he flicked his tongue against the seam of his lips and groaned when John opened to him.

 

Both men devoured one another, two equals taking what they wanted. A moan erupted from one and was roughly answered with a barely audible growl from the other. They found a feverish pace, grinding and thrusting their hips together, clutching each other as harsh grunts and sucking sounds provided a counterpoint. Their cocks stiffened and dripped with precome. The lovemaking would not be languid. They danced around this for so long. Once the desire was lit, like a match head, it flared out in an intense, incandescent frenzy.

 

John wriggled out of his lace finery and begged Jean to finger him. Jean reached for the lube in the nightstand and John heard the rustle of a condom wrapper.

 

“Don’t. I want you bare. I’m clean,” ordered John.

 

“I haven’t been with anyone since I met you,” replied Jean.  

 

Niceties over, a few quick pumps ensured his fingers were slick, slipping down between the globes of John’s ass to stroke, to tease and caress. He stopped in surprise.

 

“You minx. No wonder.”

 

He pulled at the plug and watched John shudder and wriggle above him as he eased it back in. He repeated this a few more times until he pulled it out completely. John whined at the sudden emptiness and pushed backward frantic for anything which will soothe the ache inside. Jean cooed at him and told him to be patient for just a while longer. He moved his fingers back to his stretched entrance pressing lightly with his thumb, stroking and rubbing. But John’s had enough of teasing. He wriggled his hips until he worked it inside himself. Smiling at his impatience, Jean bit at his earlobe while tugging out and easing his thumb firmly back in again. John shuddered and clutched at him, spine bowed and begging for more. Jean slid his palm over the curve of his ass pulling him open and allowed him to stretch himself open around his head. Wanting to fill him up more, Jean slipped a finger inside him alongside his cock. John’s mouth fell open and he howled his pleasure.

 

Jean sucked and licked at his upper chest, tasting his sweat, raking his teeth down the skin and heard John’s command “Now.” Teasing over, he slowly bit down, breaking skin, tasting blood, heard John’s cries and moans and felt his body shudder against his.

 

With a growl, he eased his finger out as he thrust up in time with his grinding hips, gripping them brutally with both hands. Fingers dug into his chest as he moaned unrestrained. This sex was addictive with a spark of dangerousness like nothing else he had experienced. Each thrust was better than the last for both of them.  
  
John’s groans pitched higher, becoming more breathless, and he rocked harder and more erratically. He was hot and tight and slick around Jean, fingers clawing and winding into his chest hair, a delightful touch. Jean reached for John’s cock, a throbbing silken weight in his hand, wet with fluid. John mewled at the touch of his fingers while Jean encircled it lightly, coaxing him to thrust into his hand and come over his gasping chest. When he came in thick white ribbons, he arched his back like a bow, screaming out his pleasure and called Jean’s name.

 

Jean fucked him through the aftershocks, John nearly boneless with pleasure.

 

“I wanna…”

 

“What do you need?” growled Jean with a deep thrust in between each word like a period defining what came before, separate and entire.

 

“I want to-” John gasped at each thrust, more like a punched out exhale, ”-mark you in the same place.”

 

Jean gasped out in wonder at that and nodded. He increased the intensity of his thrusts. John felt his them get erratic and bent over, sucking at his chest. He scraped his flesh with his teeth, not breaking the skin but sucking deep, wanting to leave a deep bruise. He felt the flutter of Jean’s hands on the back of his head and hissed. He released the skin and sat upright again. Jean gave a deep, final push, shuddering deep inside, clutching at John’s hips, his eyes closed, momentarily overcome. He opened his eyes to find John smiling down at him, breathing heavily, sweat dripping as he smeared his own come into Jean’s abdomen.

John climbed off and reached for the towel, cleaning them both off carefully. Jean looked completely blissed out and imobile.

 

“Jean,” John whispered.

 

He got a groan in reply.

 

“Neosporin?”

 

A half open hazel eye looked at him and John heard “upper right to the sink.” The eye closed and John eased himself off the bed carefully. He retrieved the medicine and cleaned his bite in the bathroom with some sterile dressings and neosporin. He filled two glasses with water and brought them back to the bed. Jean reached out and stroked whatever skin he could reach while John slipped under the covers.

 

“Did I hurt you very badly?”

 

“I think it will be fine.”

 

John kissed Jean languidly tasting his blood in his mouth. He moaned and cuddled close stroking him from his stomach to his shoulder and around to his back over and over. It felt like they were melting together. It was wonderful. He could feel Jean’s breath on his neck and felt him suck and nip at his ear lobe sending shivers down his spine. He continued to caress every part of Jean that he could reach and thought he heard a purr of contentment, a deep rumbling sigh.

 

“What are you doing John?”

 

“Nothing. Just petting my cat.”

 

“Don’t stop.”

 

“I won’t.”  

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank my betas @ishxallxgood, @vix-specs @daughterogthemurderhusbands (spanish translation) and @HarkerX 
> 
> Each of them worked on this fic during it's incredibly long gestation. Thank you so very much for your patience and attention to detail. You really helped to make this a much better story and I appreciate all of your hard work on my behalf.
> 
> (To the kind fannibal who assisted with the calligraphy on the dinner invitation - please reach out to me so I can thank you publicly!).


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